Kurty Doesn't Know
by krustykrabpizza
Summary: Blaine's life while he was at Carmel was anything but satisfactory. Between sexual frustration for a certain lead singer, bullying everywhere he turns, and a disapproving father, what keeps him alive? Multi-chapter Blesse, but Klaine is endgame.
1. Chapter 1

**I've always been somewhat fascinated by Vocal Adrenaline, so why not write a fic about them? Better yet, why not write a Klaine fic with a hint of Blesse about Vocal Adrenaline? Its a win/win/win.**

**Reviews are very much appreciated, I can tell you that.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. I know, I know. Im upset about it too.**

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><p>"Again"<p>

A simple word that had lost all of its meaning to the kids of Vocal Adrenaline; a word they had come to fear with almost as much intensity as they did the words 'You're out'.

It was a love hate relationship, really. It was the only relationship they had at all, in fact. There was no time for any feeling of romanticism, unless such a feeling was directed towards the prospect of performing until you die inside.

And yet, as this word was spoken, the troupe quickly obeyed and shuffled off to their positions for about the thirtieth time that day.

Blaine readied his feet in first position, careful to line them up perfectly, as Ms. Corcoran had the eyes of a hawk. A ruthless, cold-hearted, slave-driving hawk. Blaine couldn't help but giggle as he thought of Ms. Corcoran's head atop of a hawk's feathered body. He rarely found anything remotely amusing anymore (aside from other people's demise), and he snatched the opportunity with flying colors when he saw the chance.

Shelby Corcoran however, noticed that Blaine's position wasn't resembling someone who had a stick up their ass, so she quickly made the connection that Blaine had been slacking off once again. Not surprising. He was, in fact, the newest member of the brutal -but-fabulous powerhouse that was Vocal Adrenaline. How was he to know that if one measly second went by when he wasn't intimidating, the whole aura of the group she had been working so hard to preserve would be crushed. Leave it to the new kid to screw up her years of work.

"Anderson!" She called, her voice straining from frustration and the tiring task of yelling all day, every day.

The curly-haired sophomore turned around with an apologetic smile on his face. '_How typical' _she thought; surveying the boy with a look that could only be described as disappointed.

"Ms. Corcoran, I apologize. I shouldn't have-"

"First off, don't apologize, it shows weakness." She cut him off to teach him one of the most valuable lessons she had in her back pocket. She may not like the kid, but she was an educator and she was there to do her job.

"Second, if I sense another _ounce _of amusement exuding from your position back there, you _will _sit out for the next two practices, which in all actuality, would get you pardoned from the team. We wouldn't want that would we?" She asked, trying to sound completely uninterested with the matter at hand.

"Jesse," She began; the only member of the troupe whom she allowed herself to call by their first name. "is the perfect example of how you should look as you're waiting for the selection to begin. Hands to your sides, head down, more focused than you have ever looked in your entire life. Thats how you should look. Back in position, Anderson."

Blaine huffed a 'yes, ma'am' and quickly returned to his spot in the back row. He couldn't help but think that Ms. Corcoran was strictly after _him, _but he did his best to dismiss this inkling of an idea as he waited patiently for the song to begin.

Before he knew it, he was up and dancing with the rest of the team; an intricate number that had taken the others about a day to learn, but for Blaine a gruesome three. He didn't have a solo like he'd wanted, but he tried to put this behind him so he could focus on not kicking his partner in the face as he listened to Jesse St. James belt out the lyrics to '_Scotty Doesn't Know'_. It was an odd choice for a show choir, but it suited Jesse's voice perfectly. He was their star performer, after all.

Anytime Jesse opened his mouth to sing, Blaine forgot about how much of an _asshole _he was in everyday life. Its not that Jesse had actually paid Blaine any mind, but the way he sauntered down the halls of Carmel as if he _owned _them made Blaine a little skeptical of the boy's threshold for caring about other people's feelings.

Blaine would try to lie to himself with simple mantras such as '_Oh, he's not that great_', or '_I could do that with ease_', but of course these sayings were false, and Blaine knew it. Jesse was, however much of a jerk, a fabulous performer. Blaine would sometimes get so caught up in what Jesse was singing that he would find himself lagging in the dancing department, and would receive yet another scolding from Ms. Corcoran. In reality, Jesse's voice turned him on somewhat, although he would never admit such a thing.

He wanted to _be _Jesse St. James, but sometimes he also wanted to _be with _Jesse St. James.

His thoughts were interrupted by Ms. Corcoran for about the fourth time that day. "Stop! Stop, everyone stop." Ms. Corcoran shouted into her mic right before Jesse reached the second verse.

Jesse seemed to tense up at the disruption of yet another flawless performance on his part, but he knew better than to question the coach's motives.

"It was sloppy, pure and simple. Should I make you do it ten more times?" Ms. Corcoran asked, all too skilled in the art of inflicting emotional (and physical) pain on teenagers. There was no response from her pupils, though; they were trained well.

"Very well, then. Do it one more time, _perfectly, _and you can have a three minute break. Go on." She said, pressing the button to start the music once again.

_Scotty doesn't know that Fiona and me _

_Do it in my van every Sunday._

_She tells him she's in church but she doesn't go_

_Still she's on her knees and Scotty doesn't know!_

Jesse's voice rang throughout the auditorium with such intensity that Blaine had to concentrate harder than usual on the choreography. He knew he wasn't the best dancer, and this circumstance was certainly a challenge as found himself becoming somewhat hard in his pants as he listened to Jesse's singing.

_Oh Scotty doesn't know!_

_So Don't Tell Scotty!_

_Scotty doesn't know!_

_Scotty doesn't know!_

_So Don't Tell Scotty!_

He joined in, then; attempting to harmonize whist doing the most difficult choreography he had ever been thrust into.

The rest of the song went on like before, with Jesse's voice continually turning Blaine on, while Blaine tried his hardest to ignore the sensation around his member and continue twirling his partner.

After the final note on the recording had been strummed, they waited for the applause that wouldn't come from Ms. Corcoran. They then swaggered off the stage in perfect order to get a much needed water break. Blaine was just about to step behind the safe haven that was the curtain when he was called over by none other than Ms. Corcoran.

She spoke with a softer tone than usual, perhaps due to the fact that the people she had to put on the bravado for were now hidden discreetly backstage. "Blaine-" she began, and Blaine quickly wondered how she even _knew_ his first name. "I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be lacking some confidence up there. Because I don't actually have the time nor patience to teach you how to exude anything that rightfully gives you the title of showman, I think I'm going to ask Mr. St. James to be your, ah, _mentor. _We can't have you swinging around out there with the sex appeal of a baby penguin, can we?"

"Ms. Corcoran, while I appreciate your idea-" Blaine started to reject her offer, but she was too quick for him.

"Well thank you, Blaine. Its settled, then. I'll talk to Jesse right away." She said, as she left him there with a pat on the back, a smirk, and his mind to nervously scroll through the situations that could arise from this new obstacle.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading the first chapter! Hopefully I get the next one done soon! 3<strong>

**The song used in this entry was '_Scotty Doesn't Know_' by Lustra.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, everyone! I'm so sorry that it took me absolutely _ages _to update this! I've been wanting to for a while now, but I never got around to it. I really like where this fic is headed, though, so I'll try to update more often.**

**I would positively _adore _a review or two, so leave one and I'll be a very happy author!**

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><p>Saying that Blaine was nervous for his first "meeting" with Jesse was an understatement. He was in a complete state of teenage peril. Call-the-crisis-hotline,-do-some-breathing-exercises peril.<p>

For one thing, Jesse was positively the most intimidating person that Blaine could think of, and he shuddered at the prospect of making small talk when a look of superior distaste was inevitable to appear on Jesse's features. And for another thing, Blaine didn't know _what to wear. _Blaine was so appalled by this completely stereotypical teenage boy problem that he drove himself even more distress and eventually found himself face down on his pillow. _What a life._

At precisely 5:15 (an hour and forty-five minutes before Jesse was scheduled to show up), Blaine begrudgingly got off the bed, took a shower in which he contemplated the meaning of life, and threw on whatever his eyes landed on in his limited closet.

Jesse's evening was undeniably easy. Smooth, even. He was calm and collected and was a bit bored with the idea of mentoring yet another misfit, but he decided that it wasn't worth his time to bother caring. He could hardly even remember what Blaine looked like, let alone if he was a good performer. Jesse suspected he wasn't due to Ms. Corcoran's incessant nagging, but he remembered (with prominent abhorrence) his freshman year when he was nothing but an awkward fourteen year old with hair too curly for his well being and arms too long for his body. He'd deny it if you brought it up, but he wasn't the slickest of performers when he had first entered the halls of Carmel. He had been showered with what seemed like buckets of complaints from Ms. Corcoran, and he didn't protest even once. He took the constructive criticism and he _grew, _and soon he was the lead performer and everybody wanted him or wanted to be him. So in summary, he was going to be Blaine's Ms. Corcoran, except, you know, with less makeup and a penis.

At 7:00 (the time he was supposed to be at Blaine's), Jesse grabbed his signature leather jacket, did a last minute hair check, and half heartedly yelled to his mother that he was going out. He hopped into his range rover, checked his hair once again, and started off to Blaine's house, periodically checking his GPS because he didn't have the energy to learn the route himself.

When 7:15 rolled around, Blaine had begun to convince himself that Jesse wasn't actually coming, that it was the wrong day, and in reality Jesse was coming next week. Before he could convince himself of this fully, however, he heard the doorbell that signaled showtime, or his death sentence. The same thing in this case, really.

He took a deep breath, straightened his button down (which he'd finally chosen after five changes of clothes), and pretended to be completely calm ass he opened the door to the Anderson household.

Without hesitation or even an invitation inside, Jesse strolled past the doorframe and into the foyer, not even glancing at Blaine as he began to speak.

"You may have noticed that I was a bit late." He began, clearing his throat as though he was about to present a carefully thought out speech. "You see, Blaine, you need to make your host become restless. Have their anxieties build until they're positively ecstatic when you finally show up." (Blaine rolled his eyes at this) "Its all about the feeling you put in someone else." Jesse lowered his voice and stepped dangerously close to Blaine so that his chest was only inches apart from Blaine's. "Right now, Blaine, you're questioning why I'm so damn close to you. You're uncomfortable, and not-at-all-strangely aroused." Jesse laughed as he noted Blaine's nervous breath. He stepped backward and turned around so quickly that Blaine caught a whiff of his salon-brand shampoo.

Jesse wandered about for a bit until he found the living room, and entered as if it were his own house. "Now, Blaine. I want you to sing something for me. Anything, really. No, wait. A ballad. Yeah, definitely a ballad. They require the most concentration and emotion. You may begin at any time!"

Blaine was sure of two things. One being that Jesse had just given _himself _a pat on the back, is if choosing a ballad was going to cure cancer, and two, that he was completely caught off guard. He was at a loss for words let alone a song, and here was Jesse, sitting on his leather couch looking unflinchingly intimidating (and hot), expecting him to sing a heart-wrenching song at his demand. _Jerk._

And because of these two things he was sure of, he was absolutely shocked when he found himself beginning to sing the first verse of '_The Crystal Ship_'.

_Before you slip into unconsciousness _

_I'd like to have another kiss _

_Another flashing chance at bliss _

_Another kiss, another kiss_

He had no idea why this particular song came into his mind, perhaps it was because he couldn't stop looking at Jesse's lips, or because it was the song he had been listening to while getting ready. It was a toss up, really.

So Blaine sang, and Jesse watched him. Blaine tried to be discreet in his glances at Jesse, hoping to find some hint of what the older boy was feeling, but of course he found nothing. Jesse was anything but apparent.

Blaine drew out the last note of the song to create what he hoped would be some kind of dramatic effect that would earn him brownie points, and waited intently for Jesse's (hopefully generous) feedback.

"Mediocre." Was what he got instead, however. "Anyone could do that. And by anyone, I really mean anyone. I want you to do it again Blaine, and I want you to really _feel _what you're singing. This isn't a light song. Its filled with longing and agony and just pure _heart _and I need you to show me that, Blaine!"

And so he began once again, taking a moment beforehand to collect his thoughts and really "_feel_" the song.

_Oh tell me where your freedom lies _

_The streets are fields that never die _

_Deliver me from reasons why _

_You'd rather cry, I'd rather fly_

He sang, so into the song that he barely noticed himself getting closer and closer to Jesse with every note, even if he had to awkwardly step over the coffee table to do so.

_The crystal ship is being filled _

_A thousand girls, a thousand thrills _

_A million ways to spend your time _

_When we get back, I'll drop a line_

Blaine sang the last note inches away from Jesse. So close, in fact, that his nose was almost touching Jesse's. And that was when Blaine Anderson, the gawky fifteen year old freshman, kissed Jesse St. James full on the mouth.

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><p><strong>The song used in this chapter is 'The Crystal Ship' by The Doors.<strong>


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